Welcome home
by BlueMary J. Royard
Summary: Knowing was way different than seeing his friend and his former enemy, now Avenger on probation, naked on the couch in the dirty imitation of the pornographic movies that someone enjoyed putting into the case of his favorite Disney classics. Or: the day Steve Rogers began needing a psychologist. [FrostIron, Avenger!Loki]
1. Part 1

_Story written for the Italian p0rnfest7 with the prompt 'Loki/Tony Stark, "Do you want to join, us, Capsicle?"'._

_Also, I'm not a native speaker and this story is un-betaed, so please, forgive me for the mistakes. And I'm sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to steal your innocence_

* * *

They were naked.

_Completely_ naked.

And Loki seemed almost defenseless and without any control when he threw back his head with a pant, showing messy hair and a flushed face, eyes closed in pleasure and lips half open. He seemed almost frail, with Tony on top of him, tanner and more muscular than his slender figure, while thrusting into him moaning loudly and pinning him on the couch.

Or at least, Loki had seemed defenseless until he didn't grab Tony's nape, forcing him to show his neck where he dig his teeth, making Tony cry in what was half pleasure and half pain.

Steve tried to regain his breath, while an icy shiver went down to his back and his heart hammered in his chest. It was absurd for the superhuman hero, but he felt he was about to faint.

And he felt guilty too, which was even more absurd, because he hadn't walked into Tony's or Loki's room without knocking. No, his only fault, if it could be defined this way, was the fact that he had reached the common room whistling too softly to be heard among their moans, their whimpers and the sound of flesh slapping flesh – he could swear he had heard Loki moaning in a keen way that would haunt him forever, and there had been ironical words, exchanged with voice rough from arousal:

"_More, Stark"._

"_What a demanding god we have here"._

"_Be silent and pleasure me, if you do not want to be reduced to a begging mess like last night"._

"_As you wish, Your Highness"._

And, most of all, Steve doubted they would have heard him even if he had screamed.

He had arrived to the common area in a good mood. It was a huge living room, with a couch, some armchairs, a bar in a corner and a big television screen. All them Avengers had the access to this room, plus some more people like Pepper, Coulson and Jane Foster – not Fury, though: Tony, with the complicity of Jarvis, had always managed to keep the Director outside the whole tower.

And then, there he had found Loki and Tony.

Naked.

On the couch.

On _their_ couch. The one he loved sitting on during the television nights.

He almost chocked, delivering a suffocated cry that disappeared instantly, overwhelmed by the sound of the two men's kisses, of their moans, of Tony thrusting into Loki and growling dirty words into the god's ear and _please stop_.

He knew that time had changed and that homosexuality wasn't something to hide or to ashamed of anymore – Tony had made sure of that, changing the sober wallpaper of Steve's computer with the high detailed photo of two men pleasuring each other in a very explicit way, without telling him how to remove it. In the end, only the gentle intervention of Pepper, who had changed the pornographic wallpaper with one with kittens, had allowed him to use his computer again without risking a heart attack every time.

He knew also that Tony liked both men and women, and he was okay with that.

But knowing was way different than seeing his friend and his former enemy, now Avenger on probation, naked on the couch in the dirty imitation of the pornographic movies that _someone_ enjoyed putting into the case of his favorite Disney classics.

While he was still trying to regain control on his own legs, the two men changed position and he found himself meeting Tony's gaze with ill-concealed horror. For a moment, Tony stopped, his expression revealing a deep, almost comical surprise. Then, instead of being ashamed or embarrassed or reacting like a normal person would, or at least pulling out of Loki and trying to cover himself, he smiled.

"I didn't think great Captain America would be one who liked to watch", he commented, making Steve's face redder than the American flag while he gaped like a fish. "Do you want to join us, Capsicle?".

And all that while Loki strengthen his grip on Tony's body – legs around his hips and arms around his neck, and Tony still_ hasn't stopped_ thrusting into him, and Steve couldn't make it, it was too much, he could never look at either of them without replaying this scene in his mind, _and his poor couch..._ – and glared at him with such malevolence that Steve realized all too well what would happen if only he decided to accept Tony's invitation.

Not that he actually wanted to accept it, he couldn't even think about it.

Truth was that his brain was frozen and he was stuck like his body had become stone, or he would have already run for his life outside the Stark Tower and maybe away from America.

Loki gave him another withering glare that promised his imminent death by dismemberment in the following five minutes and that gave him finally the strength to move: with the lungs incapacitated like he still suffered from asthma, he run to the elevator, reaching the safety of his floor.

He needed to clean himself, to take a shower and then to leave the country as fast as he could. Maybe he could ask for a brainwashing, in hope it would cancel the memories of the last few minutes that had been impressed in his mind like a scar.

_His couch._

"Please, Jarvis, tell me that it was a one time thing", he wheezed, barricading himself in the bathroom. "Tell me it was the first time they did..." he swallowed " they did _that_ on the couch in the common area".

"It was the first time. This week", Jarvis answered, with a voice which sounded sorry, almost protective. "In the last few days, they did _that_ only in their rooms, in the bathroom, on the kitchen's table and against the wall. And in your bed".

_In his bed?_

With a horrified sob, Steve took off his clothes and threw himself under the shower, choosing an almost too hot temperature for the water.

He felt like he would never be clean again in his life.


	2. Part 2

_Sorry for the false update. I don't know what happened, but it seems like I wasn't able to upload the chapter properly. Anyway, here's the real chapter, I hope you'll like it. It's still un-beta'd, so sorry for the mistakes. And thank you for the comments!_

* * *

"Where's our favorite boy-scout in star and stripes? He never shows up later than seven o'clock in the morning, and now it's already ten".

Ignoring Stark, Loki scrutinized with a displeased expression the still empty table. Usually, by this hour, the table was full of the food cooked by Rogers – the only benefit of his annoying presence.

He sat down, waiting for Stark to prepare him some breakfast and didn't even spare a look towards the two spies entering the kitchen. The only Avenger who arose some worries in him was the mortal who had the best inside himself, because he remembered in a too vivid way how his ribs and vertebra had broken under the monster's terrifying attack.

But the beast wasn't there, Stark had said that he had gone in a far away place and was busy healing other Midgardians, and Loki was perfectly happy without him around.

Agent Barton glared at him from the doorstep, hesitating. Then, with a grimace, he entered the kitchen to grab a box of cereal and sat in the most further chair from him. Romanoff, on the other side, sat next to Loki, showing a calm that almost made him smile.

He sort of liked the woman. He would enjoy breaking her, if only he hadn't decided to stop on Midgard for a while, so that he could have some peace and Odin's eye wouldn't be on him anymore. And there was Stark, the most interesting mortal he had ever met. Killing the woman would mean loosing the Man of Iron, and that simply wasn't worth it.

He looked at him exactly when the mortal was about to sit at his side, but he stopped him with a significant glance. Romanoff and Barton could be satisfied with some cereals and a cup of the bitter hot beverage Stark seemed so fond of, but he wanted a better meal. And yes, he could conjured it with a spell but he was curios to see how the mortal would please him.

"What's your obsession with Cap?", Barton asked, taking a handful of cereals without even using a spoon "You were looking for him also yesterday, do you have a crush for our Captain?"

Stark didn't even spare a glance for him, since he was clearly busy with the thought of preparing a breakfast that would satisfy Loki.

"A ninety year old man who physically is thirty, psychologically eighty and sexually eleven? No, thanks, I'll pass". He ran a hand through his hair before gathering pans, pots and a big variety of canned food with a clueless expression. "Hey, Jarv, any news from our favorite virgin boy?".

"Mister Rogers is in the shower, sir".

Stark glanced in Loki's direction like he was looking for approval or suggestions – Loki gave him neither – before going back to his clumsy attempts at preparing breakfast. After a moment of reflection, he put some eggs in a pan.

"That's strange. Yesterday he was in the shower too. I hope I'm not synchronizing to Capsicle's shower, it would be creepy".

"No, sir, it's always the same shower".

Loki suppressed a wicked smile.

"Maybe he's unloading ninety years of repression", Stark commented with a shrug, even if there was a glimpse of discomfort in his face.

Romanoff grabbed a slice of bread and fixated his eyes on him like she was trying to understand what the link between Rogers' too long shower and Stark's strange behavior was. Of course, Loki knew she would find out in no time, since she looked like she wanted to interrogate the Man of Iron as soon as possible.

He spent one last glance to Stark and his attempt at cooking the eggs, then he slid away. He wouldn't save his lover from the woman's grasp, that was _Stark's_ problem – and this way the mortal would learn that it wasn't a good idea to host that annoying huddle of heroes, including the big oaf of his not-brother, that luckily was now by his Midgardian woman.

"Stark's creation, did you memorize everything of what happened yesterday?", he asked as soon as he found himself in the pleasant silence of his room.

"Of course I did, mister Loki".

"And what happened when Stark thought it would be funny if someone used Rogers' bed to do something else than sleeping? Did you memorize it too?".

"Yes", the voice confirmed, even if it sounded almost with a reproachful.

Not that Loki cared about the voice's opinion in that matter. He smiled until he showed his teeth, ready to use his magic to make Stark's creation obey if it didn't want to.

"Then let's show both scenes to the Captain, shall we? Of course, just to help him recovering from his _trauma_".


End file.
